prima-balalaika
In Soviet Russia, Balalaika plays You
Black Lagoon Balalaika RP
@fifth-essence
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It turned into one of those renaissance portraits…
(is it renaissance? idk my art history/styles anymore)
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“Frankly, it’s embarrassing.”
— Balalaika in Black Lagoon: The Second Barrage #24 The Gunslingers
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Any regrets from the past?
They're buried in Afghanistan. Next question.
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FBI OPEN UP
Check in is after 4 at Hotel Moscow...
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Some close-up shots of Balalaika from Black Lagoon, mostly with her cigar
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Everything around her felt sharp, tuned like a violin string. Balalaika inhaled deeply. The casual onlooker may have mistaken her breaths as nervous, but really, she just liked the smell of gunpowder that much.
Especially after a kill.
Balalaika smiled, putting her phone down next to her gun. The Black Lagoon’s lively pair were on their way now, if she could just hold in her emotions for just a few more moments she might be able to tell them their task.
The latest addition to her body count was still in the chair, slumped over. Balalaika supposed the plastic bag on its head wasn’t tight enough to make the features obvious, but she was going to make it unrecognisable soon enough.
Balalaika waited till the Lagoon’s Plymouth Roadrunner screeched into the loading bay before picking up the dead man’s phone. She smiled into the dial tone as a young, foul-mouthed woman got out, cursing Balalaika’s name down the empty corridors before vanishing into the building, followed by her companion. Balalaika cut the call off before it could be answered. Now, she thought, the calvary’s here.
Скандал с
@prima-balalaika
Late at eve, Rebecca and Rock were summoned to one of Balalaika’s lodgings in Roanapur. Judging by the way she addressed them, something awful must have happened to her. She didn’t sound angry nor scared. But rather, done.
“So who the hell was that?” Asked Revy after Rock hung up the phone.
“Balalaika.”
Rebecca had quite the questioning look.
“Huh? What the hell’s she want from you now again..? Do you-”
“Us.” Said Rock abruptly whilst turning towards Rebecca.
Rock’s answer didn’t really answer anything. Rebecca’s questionmark expression resembled now an enigma of a jigsaw puzzle.
She found a pretty clear way of expressing her feelings to him.
“Huh?”
“She wants us both to get over to her place in Malory street.”
“Oh.. Well.. Now?”
“Yeah. She told me to get our asses over there as quick as we can. That’s really all she said. She hung up quickly after that.”
“Oh.. Uh.. Fuck? I don’t fucking know! Get your ass in the car dammit.”
Revy then got up and started pushing Mr. Japanese towards the exit. He didn’t exactly enjoy that.
“Yeah yeah. Hey! Don’t push me around like that!”
And like that, without notifying the rest of the crew yet, the two took of in the companies trade mark car. The 1968 Plymouth Roadrunner.
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